


In The Dark

by vangeaux



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vangeaux/pseuds/vangeaux
Summary: In which a ghost and a vampire eventually find in each other welcome company.





	1. chapter one

Alma was ecstatic.

It had been just another day watching the people of New Orleans pass her by. It was a common occurrence as no one else could actually see her. Luckily, watching was her favorite pastime. The entire city and its occupants captivated Alma. It was as if she were watching a never ending movie (if she could eat popcorn, she would). 

Sometimes, however, whenever she would grow lonely, she'd step into somebody's line of sight. Just a smile in her direction could act as a balm to her loneliness. Sometimes, she'd even go as far as holding a conversation. Though, friendships would never last. The dead and the living never really had much in common. They would grow and move on while she would always stay the same.

Perhaps she had just learned to enjoy the solitude. It was never boring, especially in a city like New Orleans, but sometimes the days just would merge together. Once a person grows so old, it was unavoidable. One particular day, however, turned out to be very eventful.

It was the day that he Mikaelson family rolled back in town.

She heard it from frightened whispers in the streets. All the others were nervous. They had a thing going and the Original family arriving would only shake it up. The chain of command would be threatened. Because the Mikaelsons were the most powerful vampires that ever existed; they were the first of their kind. And wherever they settled, chaos was soon to follow.

Alma didn't feel quite the same as the others around her. For most of her existence, dead or alive, she wondered what the renown Mikaelsons were really like. Oh, she'd heard the stories. Most of them centered around Klaus (the bloodthirsty psychopath) or Elijah (the trust worthy nobleman).

'Elijah may be noble but he's just as dangerous,' she had once been warned. 'Just stay away from all of them. Just don't interfere.'

Now, decades later, she finally had her chance to get the first hand experience that she had been craving. To hell with all the warnings. What did she have to fear anyways? She was already dead.

It wasn't hard finding them. First, she sought out Marcel, the current leader of the city's vampire community. Ever since his rise to power in the twenties, Alma had been keeping tabs on him. He proved to be very interesting from early on. It was enjoyable to watch him grow into a leader, a ruler. And because he was such a great ruler, she knew he would have to be involved with the Mikaelsons. Marcel would never let somebody wander onto his turf without a warm welcome and a warning.

Alma knew Marcel all too well. Not long after quietly sitting with him without his knowledge, she finally got an eyeful of Klaus Mikaelson. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him (she didn't need to breathe but old habits die hard).

He walked in with an air of confidence, with his head held high and shoulders pushed back. The man looked so regal. Every head turned to look at him when he entered the room; he was impossible to ignore.

"He's hot," Alma murmured as her eyes followed his movements. There was still surprise at seeing such a godlike figure in the flesh, at seeing how handsome a 1000 year old man still was. He was a brute, a killer. He was supposed to be an ugly monster inside and out. How could such an ugly person have such a beautiful face? It simply wasn't fair.

For starters, she wasn't exactly sure how he could appear so masculine yet delicate at the same time. The blonde curls atop his head much resembled the hair of a babydoll she had played with as a child. His baby blue eyes and cherub lips certainly didn't add to the sinister mood that enveloped the small bar as he walked it. No, it was the firm set of his jaw that set people on edge, the furrow in his brow. It was the power in his form, in the way he walked that was so intimidating.

Baby faced or not, Klaus Mikaelson was not a man to be messed with.

While everyone else cowered, Alma squealed as she reclined on the bar. There were definite perks to being invisible, like weirdly gawking at strangers without being judged by witnesses.

Perching her head on her hand, she leaned in towards the notorious vampire and observed the way his eyes flitted as he looked around him. His instincts must have told him that something wasn't quite right, that he was being observed. With a shake of his head, he threw back a drink, surely thinking to himself that he must be paranoid.

'I wonder how long Marcel has before his position is uprooted by this one,' Alma thought idly. Klaus certainly didn't look like one to follow orders.

His grip tightened on his glass, and with a tilt of his head, he looked directly at her. Alma instinctually froze. Until she realized he wasn't looking at her. No, he was looking through her. Relaxing with the realization, she reflected on the sudden thrilling reaction she had to thinking he had seen her. There was no way she could just leave this one alone. Already, she was hooked by the appeal of an original.

Covering her growing grin with the palm of her hand, she fell back on the bar as she began to plan her next move.


	2. Chapter 2

It was easy to get caught up in the daily lives of the Mikaelson family. It didn't take long to get to know them, to understand their differences and also things the siblings shared in common. Elijah was everything Alma expected and hoped him to be. He was well mannered, well groomed and was one articulate cookie; still every bit as interesting as his brother. 

Then there was Rebekah, also stunningly attractive (big surprise). The sassiness, confidence and strength were all things that Alma particularly admired about the Mikaelson sister. Frankly, she couldn't imagine being the only girl in a family of immortal vampires. Rebekah turned out fabulous, considering. Alma would have probably gone bald due to ripping all of her hair out in frustration.   

There was a never boring moment involving the original family. It was as if they lived for the drama; the world was their stage. It made for too many big egos in one room, but it was expected of the most powerful creatures on the planet. 

The scenes would unfold before her and she had the perfect view. Unknowingly before her, Klaus would speak of his newest plans and strategies and Alma would listen with rapt attention. He was a man who never quit, who never took a break. He'd run into an obstacle, jump up and brush himself off, then start again. 

He was... admirable.

And then he gave away Elijah like a piece of furniture. 

It wasn't only hard to watch, it was almost impossible to look at Klaus' nonchalance as he enacted the deal. There was no sign of remorse or regret, only overconfidence. He thought he was in control, ready to pull the rug out from everyone at any moment. It didn't make the situation any less cruel. Elijah had done nothing but faithfully support his brother and he now had nothing to show for it. 

After that, Alma gave Klaus the cold shoulder. For a while.

It was just no fun watching him run around all high and mighty and proud, parading himself as a king of the city. He should feel awful for what he done. The guilt should eat away at him. He should sit down every night and think about what he did and instantly want to get his brother back.

But no. It was "all part of the plan". Well, the plan sucked and Alma figured he ought to know that. She doesn't come out of hiding that often but when she does, she does.

So, Klaus was pretty shocked when a kitchen knife soared straight past his head and stabbed into the wall (she just couldn't bring herself to throw it directly into his skull). His first thought was of Rebekah, and he become to comb through all the memories of his recent misdeeds. Rebekah was always so fickle and easy to anger. But no, he would have heard her approach. He would have heard anyone. People don't just sneak up on him. Ever. 

Calmly, he turned around to face his attacker. He felt no fear, only annoyance. The girl before him looked unfamiliar and, for some reason, extremely upset. 

'How dare that little... mouse of a girl attack me! And oh, that glare she has frozen on her face.' 

Clasping his hands in front of him, he cocked his head to the side and smile. Softly, he asked, "Do you know who you're dealing with, love?" 

For weeks, she had been enamored with the vampire that stood before her. She had even carefully planned how they would meet. But in that moment, all of his little quirks became infuriating. The way he thought so highly of himself, thought he was so terrifying. Alma might have thought he was more fearsome if she hadn't seen the way he threw hissy fits when he was alone with his family.

'Well, Klaus Mikaelson,' she thought. 'You've just met you're match.'

The hands by Alma's sides balled up into fists. "I do, actually," she finally replied, trying her best to keep an even tone. 

"Then how did you think you could just come into my home and play these games with me." He never gave her a second to reply; he wasn't in the mood. He'd get information on her eventually. In a second he was by her side, reaching out for a neck to snap. 

He stared in astonishment at the empty air. His hands were grasping at nothing. "Oh, how typical," he heard her annoying voice snap from behind him. "You tried to kill me!"

"That's... That's not possible," Klaus muttered, turning around to face her once again. He should've had hold of her; he should've snapped her neck like a twig. There was no possible way she could be faster than him, fast enough to elude his vision. He hadn't seen her move. She was simply there one second, and gone the next. 

"Idiot," she snarled, crossing her arms. "I'm already dead."

At first, Klaus thought she meant she was dead as in vampire dead. It took him a moment to realize that there was no second heartbeat in the room. He couldn't smell her at all. She hadn't run from him. She really had vanished because she wasn't even substantial.

Klaus started chuckling. And then he started laughing. "No," he said. "No, that's not..." He turned away and brought a hand up to his head. And here he thought he had seen everything in his 1000 years of existence. 

He composed himself before turning back to her. He still had that stupid grin on his face. "Okay, spirit from the beyond: what have you to say to me? Are you here to bring me a message? Or here to judge me for all my ill willed deeds on Earth?"

Alma's jaw dropped. He's condescending even to ghosts.

So overcome with anger, she stammered as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I'm here to talk about your brother," she heatedly told him, finally getting the words out. 

"Ah, so you are here to judge me." Turning away, he thought about how she knew anything about Elijah, how she knew anything about him. There was a girl flitting around with information that she should know nothing about. It was a problem that would have to be dealt with. 

"I'm here because you're an ass," she said to his back, "and you need to get your brother back!" 

Not only was she a liability, she was also incredibly annoying. 

"What do you know of Elijah?" The careless had been dropped from his tone. Now, as he casually walked away from her, he sounded strained. Coming to a stop, his destination seemed to be a cabinet of liquor. "I would offer you a drink," he said as he pulled out a bottle, "but well..."

Looking over his shoulder, his lips quirked in a smirk as he shrugged. 

'Oh, I see,' she thought darkly. 'The drink would go right through me, ha ha ha. Klaus, the comedian of the year. 

"I know everything, Klaus," she admitted, ignoring his pathetic joke. This wasn't how she imagined their first meeting at all. He was actually supposed to like her but she was also supposed to like him. They seemed to be failing on both of those accounts.

"Well, aren't you the nosy one," he murmured, seeming more interested in his brandy than anything else. 

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Alma snorted. It's pretty hard not to be nosy when you're a ghost. 

Klaus finally turned back to look at her. His footsteps were loud, echoing off the walls of the room, as he slowly walked to stand in front of her. "Figure it out." He leaned down till he was face to face with her and then very clearly said, "Just leave me alone."

Alma was compliant just long enough for him to leave the room. "Wait!" She called out to careless ears. "This conversation has barely started!" 

Klaus sighed as he walked into the adjoining room only to find the girl reclining comfortably in a chair. "Now..." She said, twirling a steak knife in her hand. "About Elijah..."


	3. Chapter 3

     It wasn't long before Alma found an ally on Team Elijah. Rebekah Mikaelson proved herself every bit as smart as her stolen brother as she fought for his return. She certainly didn't make things easy for Klaus, which Alma was incredibly impressed with. Watching the siblings squabble kept Alma feeling quite smug.

     Because Girl Power.

     Now, that she had given up on giving the 'cold shoulder', Alma never shied away from communicating with Klaus. Whenever she would find him alone, she would make a point to pop in and say hello. A part of her just secretly hoped it was driving him mad. By the way he always stomped away from her, she assumed her endeavors were working. Though, he could never quite escape her. She'd simply trail behind him, chattering away as if she had no idea that her company was unwanted.

     It was hard pulling conversation out of him; he rarely had anything to say to her, besides when he was ordering her to go away. For that reason alone, Alma made it her mission to make him talk. It always led to interesting results. 

     "So," he had said to her one day, a sly grin forming on his face. "Explain how it works." At the questioning quirk of her eyebrow, he elaborated, "Your wardrobe. I'm assuming your clothes are just as insubstantial as you yourself are."

     "You lost me buddy," she muttered, pretending to pick at her fingernails. 

     "Well..." His familiar smirk was back, indicating that he was acting just as naughty as ever. "What would happen to them if you took them off, for instance? Would they simply disappear? Because, they're not exactly real clothes. Could you even take them off, if you wanted?"

     "Klaus," she gasped, horrified, her outdated values feeling extremely threatened by his inquiries. "I don't know!"

     "I'm sorry, but they are pretty outdated, love."

     "Trust me, I know."

     She had eventually laughed at that. A lot. At the time, she even thought that she might have seen Klaus crack a genuine smile. 

__________

There were always spectacular shows to witness whenever around the Original Family, as they flaunted their power and strength. One moment in particular stood out, a moment Alma was sure she would never forget. Before her, Klaus took out a crowd of young vampires one by one. They all overtook him, had him down as they beat him. It looked as if Klaus would surely lose. 

Then the look on his face, the pure hatred and anger burning in his eyes, forebode a different outcome. In an instant, he was back on his feet, snarling as he began killing those immediately around him. 

Alma's jaw had dropped as she looked on in awe (she seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Klaus had that jaw dropping effect on people). It was horrifying to witness, yet she prayed for his survival. There was no feeling of repulsion, like she had felt when he had traded his brother to the enemy. On the contrary, she was proud when Klaus prevailed.

     "I'm so glad I didn't miss this," she had murmured (it was surely a popcorn worthy moment).

Afterwards, the mass of dead bodies were momentarily forgotten, just left to lie on the cold floor. They would wake up soon, one of the perks of being an immortal vampire. Still stunned by the sight, Alma slowly walked through them, glancing at all the blank faces. It was truly a war between the vampires. One of the faces stared up into nothing, eyes never shutting. Alma crouched down next to the girl for a closer inspection.

Her face fell. "That looks a bit like me, doesn't it?" Her voice came out as a whisper. Her and the dead vampire did share common features. Light hair, light skin, small nose, small lips... Young. Dead. The resemblance wasn't too uncanny, yet she suddenly felt a connection to the fallen soldier, to all of them. It was incredibly silly; they weren't permanently dead, not like Alma was.

She looked around, making sure she was alone, before she reached over and gently pressed the stranger's eyelids closed.

__________

"What is it about killing that you enjoy so much?" Alma bluntly asked him later that day. Immediately, she realized how unfair the question must have been. After all, Marcel's vampires had attacked Klaus first. 

But what about all the others before them, she wondered. The ones who didn't attack first?

When he never replied, she assured him, "Don't worry, I'm not judging you. We all have our little... quirks." The corner of his lips twitched. "I'm just curious."

"When people ask for it," he drawled, tilting his head as he looked over at her, "I deliver."

The conversation quickly came to a close.

__________

     Sometimes both Klaus and Alma would forget Rebekah was around. The sister would frequently hear Klaus talking and sometimes she almost thought she heard a female voice.

     But Rebekah would know if someone else was in her house. Right? Of course, there was the wolf girl. But even when she was gone... Klaus would still be talking to some mysterious stranger.

     Rebekah couldn't help but be snoopy. Soon, whenever she'd hear Niklaus speak, she'd quickly find herself in the same room as him. There was never a third person. She could only assume he had started talking to himself.

     She wondered if he had gone mad with old age.

     Klaus always noticed how Alma never let anybody else see her. It irritated him to no end. He could only imagine what a fool he must look like to his sister when she walked in on him when he was in mid conversation.

     "Why do you insist on tormenting me and only me?" He eventually asked the ghost (pest), obviously annoyed. He lay on his bed, an arm thrown over his face, covering his eyes. 

     "Because you're smoking hot." Alma plopped down on the bed, sprawling out next to him. "And I'm making sure you get your brother back, of course."

     "Why do you even care?" A muscle in his cheek flexed.

     "Because he's a good guy. And you shouldn't betray family. And I have nothing better to do, so..." 

     They sat in silence for awhile. Klaus stared up at the ceiling and Alma stared at Klaus. He tried to ignore her, he really did, but he could just feel her eyes boring into him. 

     "Nobody else knows about you." He murmured. He wondered why she showed herself to only him; wondered why she didn't just stay hidden or just make herself known to everybody. He wondered if maybe she was just lonely.

     "Nope and I intend to keep it that way." She told him. "They wouldn't make very fun entertainment if they were constantly on guard."

     That made sense.

     Then something dawned on Klaus. "You're right." He said slowly. Alma grew wary as she watched his eyes light up. "They're not on guard when they think they've got privacy. I bet you know all of Marcel's dirty little secrets." 

     He was feeling quite chuffed with himself until he looked over and realized Alma was gone. 

     "Seriously, Nik, who are you talking to?" Rebekah stood in the doorway, with hands on her hips. Her eyebrows were raised and she wore an expectant look on her face. 

     Klaus rolled his eyes. "Just the friendly neighborhood ghost."


End file.
